


all i've ever known is how to hold my own

by flyingspaghettimonster



Series: any way the wind blows [1]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora and Adam have a psychic twin connection, Adora is a princess, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Catra and Adora get the childhoods they deserved, Catra is a princess, Catra's birth name is C'yra III, F/F, Family Feels, Hordak never kidnaps Adora, Royalty, Strangers to Lovers, and the families they deserved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 02:02:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17778482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingspaghettimonster/pseuds/flyingspaghettimonster
Summary: "C'yra of Driluth III, Princess of Halfmoon. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."The princess smiles, and her gaze is full of mirth, however, she cannot seem to tear her eyes away either. Without hesitation, she plucks the edges of her red silken gown and pulls the skirt out wide, and dips into a similar exaggerated bow, not once breaking the eye contact that they have maintained. A soft laugh bubbles from her lips, and C'yra - only briefly - wonders what they would taste like if she kissed her. Only briefly."Adora of Greyskull, Princess of Eternia." The golden-haired princess holds a hand out to her, an offer. "Won't you dance with me, C'yra?"





	all i've ever known is how to hold my own

“C’yra, for Etheria’s sake, would you sit still?”

C’yra briefly considers hissing in response to her father’s plea but decides against it very quickly. Her father is a sweet man, the beloved King Consort of Halfmoon, and while he is gentle at heart and would never yell at her, he is hardly likely to let her get away with it. Instead, she slumps in her seat and attempts to hold still as he attempts to flatten her wild, often untamable hair. Heavy emphasis on attempt.

“I don’t wanna go to a stupid ball,” she grumbles, arms crossed childishly over her chest. “Mermista won’t be there because she’s sick, and Entrapta will be running around doing social experiments the whole time! I’ll be bored to death.”

Her father tuts softly as he presses the flattening tool down on her hair. “Kitten, you know how important this is for your mother and the Rebellion.”

“Sure I do! But how does me being there make any difference when I most likely won’t even meet the stupid royal family?”

“Well, we want to show them that we take family very seriously in the Rebellion, don’t we?” Julian pokes her gently in the cheek, and she fails miserably at suppressing her smile. “Besides, you know your mother loves to show you off to all of her friends.”

“With good reason!” The queen, in the midst of passing by, reaches out with her paw to pinch at her daughter’s cheek despite her whining. “I’m always proud of my baby girl and I’m showing her off all night.”

“Mooooom-”

"What! I'm not allowed to be proud of my daughter?"

"Whatever suits you, mom, but can you PLEASE not say that embarrassing stuff in front of those weirdos we're supposed to be sucking up to? Please?"

“C’yra." 

The princess in question suddenly freezes upon hearing the tone of Imra's voice. The mood within the room has turned thick, and dreadfully serious. "Yeah?"

"I know you couldn’t care less about these diplomatic “snore fests” as you put it, but…” Her mother’s eyes suddenly turn sorrowful, almost bordering on a look of helplessness that C’yra has never seen the queen wear before. It’s almost frightening for her to see it.

Her mom does not sit and wonder what to do, she stands up and she fights, even if it puts her own life at risk, and not once in her life has she ever hesitated to seek help when it was needed. Her foresight of the Horde’s attempted siege of Halfmoon, and her plea for the aid of neighboring kingdoms is what saved their underground home from destruction and their people from total decimation. C’yra doesn’t even want to think about what could have happened to her if the Horde had succeeded, and she certainly doesn’t want to consider what could have happened to her family. Imra’s face only seems to confirm her worst fear.

“The Horde is getting closer, isn’t it?” She wants to pretend that the waver in her voice is only her imagination.

Her mother reaches forward, gripping her cheeks with her warm paws and looking directly into her daughter’s mismatched eyes. Though the uncertainty is palpable, C’yra can feel her heartbeat beginning to slow.

“I won’t lie to you and say no because you are a smart girl and you know better. But the Rebellion needs allies that just don’t exist here on Etheria...our hope is that the royal family from Eternia can help us, even in just the smallest ways.” Imra’s gaze hardens, and that familiar determination is such a soothing thing to see. “But you know that I would die before I let Hordak touch you, or our kingdom. That is a promise.”

“Let’s hope it does not come to that,” Julian whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss to his wife’s ear, then down to press another to his daughter’s. “I certainly didn’t lose my leg in this damn war to let Hordak waltz in and take my two treasures away.”

The queen smiles, soft and so so loving that it takes C’yra’s breath away. “It’s just one night, kitten. Please?”

C’yra curses whatever gods may exist for the infinite love that she holds for her parents. Stars above, she loves them so much, and she would do anything to keep them and her home safe. When the last chunk of flattened hair falls to brush her jaw, and her father pats her shoulder to tell her he is done, she stands and embraces her mother, pressing her face into the soft fur of her neck.

“Fine.”

-

“I can literally hear you thinking from over here, missy. Does your brain know how to shut up or do I have to find the off switch?”

Adora glances across the room to her twin, annoyance etched into the half-lidded glare she is throwing his way. He isn’t paying attention, however, as he is fumbling with his newest enemy, the cursed bowtie. “I don’t know, do you know how to tie that or are you gonna make me do it for you?”

“Nobody likes a cheap shot, Adora.” A pause, filled with strained grunts, before a defeated sigh. “I need you to do it for me.”

Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, she stands from her seat and approaches Adam and snorts at his pout. “Hold still doofus, I haven’t done this in a while.”

“Ah, admitting that it’s hard to do?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, sir, or you can go to this ball and impress all your admirers with your lack of motor skills.”

“Ouch. That hurts, sis.”

“I only say it because I love you dearly.” Adora takes both ends of the bowtie and gets to work on tying it together, running through the first few steps in her head just to be sure.

Silence overcomes them for a few moments as she ties the bowtie their mother picked out. But like always (especially when Adam is present) the silence does not last for very long.

“Hey.” He cranes his neck in an attempt to catch her gaze, icy blue staring into icy blue. Since birth, since their days spent sharing a crib as newborns, Adam hardly needs words to guess what his sister is thinking at the moment. Perhaps it is a strange twinly psychic connection, or perhaps he just knows her far too well. “You’re thinking about Hordak again, aren’t you?”

Like always, he hits the nail right on the head, and it sinks cleanly into the wood. Adora heaves a gentle sigh, fingers deftly twisting and folding the soft fabric in her hands. “Yeah. Can’t seem to stop thinking about it, even after all this time.”

Though the incident took place when the twins were only days old, the princess could never shake the knowledge that she had nearly been stolen from her crib by the man called Hordak. She had discovered it by accident, happening upon her parents in a discussion with Duncan, the head of the royal guard, at the tender age of five. When she had overheard the mention of her name in their conversation, she had stumbled in and asked what they were saying, much to their horror and regret. And her father had steeled himself, placing his little daughter upon his knee and explaining to her that a bad man had tried to take her away from them when she was a little baby, but that he had failed, and Duncan had saved her. It was her father who tucked her into bed that night, and she can still so vividly remember asking him if the bad man would come back to take her away; though he had said no, she could not shake the fear that one day he would.

And throughout her childhood, she was plagued with the terrible nightmares of a frightening man with blood red eyes stealing her away in the night. Though they would subside as she grew older, there are still times when they come back with a vengeance.

“Well it’s different now that we’re going to the planet he’s on and we’re actively treating with the rebellion that’s fighting him.” Adam’s frown is laced with concern. “Have you been having the nightmares again?”

“No.”

Instantly, her twin’s face morphs into an unimpressed and all-knowing stare, one that says “you are full of shit”.

“Fine,” Adora sighs, eyes darting towards their feet, then back up. “Only the past couple nights though. And once on the ship.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it, stupid?”

“Didn’t want to wake you up.” 

“You can always wake me up when you need me, Adora, you know that.” 

She presses her lips together, contemplating a dignified response that doesn’t involve spilling her guts out to her brother while they’re trying to ready themselves for a ball that could bring an important alliance. What she comes up with is as simple as she can manage. “I just want to prove to mother and father that I won’t let this get in the way of my duty.”

Their parents had wanted to leave Adora in Eternia, and though they told her it was because they wanted her to hold down the fort while they were away, she knew that there was a second motive as well. Though they would not admit it, she knows her mother still experiences terrors of that day, when she had to watch her baby being stolen away by Hordak. She knew they only wanted to protect her, but she is nothing if not stubborn as a mule, and refused to allow this stupid incident to hold her back. She begged to go with them, even if her heart was hammering in her chest.

They reluctantly allowed it.

But now that they have arrived, she can’t help but fear that she made the wrong choice.

Adora ties off the bowtie neatly, adjusting it, and patting her brother’s shoulders softly. “There you go.”

Without missing a beat, Adam leans in and pulls her into a deep, loving embrace, holding her tight against his chest. He rubs his hand in circles across her back, and her eyes begin to burn with tears, knowing just how loved she is. She could never forget it, and she never wants to forget it.

“You’re not a newborn this time, missy, and you could easily whoop his ass and make him regret ever trying to hurt you.” He then slyly gestures to the closet, where the shining Sword of Power that lays propped against the wall inside. “If he tries anything, and you can’t do anything, He-Man can certainly do it for you.”

“Aren’t you worried about mother and father wondering how He-Man would have made it to Etheria just in time to save me?” The question is phrased sarcastically, but her grin is so wide that it can be heard.

“Shush, let’s cross that bridge when we get to it, mmkay?”

“Okay.”

-

The ball is a fancy affair, yet it is clear that it is a Rebellion affair as well. Brightmoon’s palace is packed full of rebellion members, royals, generals, soldiers, diplomats, anyone who could possibly be beneficial to the Rebellion has been invited. But for all the beautiful decorations and gorgeous crystal chandeliers and platters of food available, none of it could dull the boredom that C’yra is suffering from. Once her parents had led her to their friends, and raved over how proud of her they were, she was permitted to wander off under the condition that she wouldn’t get herself into any funny business. She had left with a lazy salute and wandered to an empty wall with a flute of a sparkling pink alcoholic drink and a plate of food to munch on, tugging on the collar of her dress shirt and adjusting her crushed velvet suit jacket.

There isn’t much for her to do beyond observe the masses. Most of the faces were familiar; Princess Glimmer and her friend Bow snickering in the corner, Princess Entrapta up on the balcony and observing the crowds with keen eyes and a recorder at her lips, Princess Perfuma laying little crowns of flowers upon the head of a little girl. She spots Queen Angella at Imra’s side, and they converse with severe faces - she can feel her heart tighten at the sight. With pursed lips, she turns back to observing the young princesses scattered about the room.

It’s not that she doesn’t like making friends, and it’s not that she doesn’t like any of them either. She just can’t seem to connect with most of them easily; with Mermista it was their shared love of sarcasm that allowed for a friendship to bloom, and with Entrapta it was entirely being used as a “helper” for one of her social experiments. Beyond that, C’yra has always struggled to make solid connections with her fellow princesses, which always left her to be far lonelier than she could have been growing up. But never once did she ever feel negatively towards them; it certainly isn’t anyone’s fault that C’yra had to grow up in an underground kingdom, isolated from the rest of Etheria most of the time for their protection.

Her musings are cut short by trumpet sound, and the ballroom doors being pulled open by two servants. She cranes her neck and stands up on her toes to be able to see who would be entering over the crowded assortment heads in front of her.

An older couple steps into the ballroom, arm-in-arm, dressed lavishly and accompanied by guards following behind. The king and queen of Eternia, C’yra deduces; they would be the ones negotiating an alliance with the Rebellion, they are the ones standing in the way of the survival of Halfmoon and its people. Not far behind them, another pair, boy and girl, steps into the ballroom and closely followed by guards. They also walk arm-in-arm, bringing them so close together that it is clearly obvious that they are twins, from the point of their noses to the golden blond of their hair. The prince and princess, then. Less important, perhaps, but it could be likely that the Eternian royal family also takes family quite seriously. If that is the case, then that only increases the likelihood of an alliance.

C’yra squints further at the twins, first taking in the appearance of the prince. His hair is well-groomed and kept in a small ponytail, and his face is composed but it is already clear that he is quite the charmer, and he glances discretely across the room to take it all in. His bowtie is perfectly straight, his jacket a deep red that perfectly compliments the rosy tone of his skin. She can already predict that he is going to garner plenty of admirers throughout the course of the night, without a doubt. She shudders to think that if she were interested in men, she might have been so easily captivated by some foreign prince who probably couldn’t swing a sword properly.

When C’yra turns her gaze over to the princess, everything around her slows to a stop.

While she bears a striking resemblance to her brother, she’s...different. Hair made of spun gold is tied neatly into a braided knot that sits at the top of her neck, elegant, with a few wisps of hair framing her angled face. Her gown is the same deep red as her brother’s jacket, made of silk, thick straps sitting off her shoulder with a neckline that sweeps across the middle of her sternum. The gown reaches just above her ankles, the skirt comprised of dark crimson silk and the same deep red on the overskirt, encompassing until it reaches the middle of her waist, where it splits off the middle and flares out, the hems laced with soft ruffles. And while she seems small and while the dress hugs her waist perfectly, as beautiful as she is, C’yra easily spots the muscle present in the princess’ arms, and notes the way that she carries herself with dignity. A fighter, then; perhaps this family has more to it than she is privy to.

In a split second, the princess turns her head just so, allowing their eyes to lock instantly. Crisp, icy blue, lashes that delicately fan across her cheekbones when she blinks. C’yra can’t tear her eyes away, she’s utterly captivated by a stranger she has only seen for five seconds.

As quickly as it happened, it’s over, and the twin royalty continues their march towards Queen Angella and the rebel leaders. As the king and queen converse with their possible new allies, presenting their two children, C’yra keeps her eyes glued to the back of the princess’ head, searching for...something, though she is not sure of what. Or perhaps she is waiting for her to notice and turn to look back at her once more; she would almost cause a ruckus just to have those beautiful eyes return to her.

She doesn’t. Instead, she waits, she watches the princess meet Glimmer and Bow, and feels the crushing weight of lost hope surging; she has yet to get that chance to make an impression, and she could hardly blame the princess for gravitating towards the pair, who are too nice for their own good. But C’yra continues to watch, watches the princess lead her brother around the room, meeting as many as possible, and even taking a break to munch on some food at the buffet, though her keen eyes notice how little the princess eats. Nerves, or something else?

It isn’t until the music begins to grow louder, and the dancing begins, that C’yra gets her chance. 

The prince pulls Bow off towards the dancing, his charming little smile present, leaving his sister to wander the edges of the dancefloor with a far-off look on her face. C’yra, a Magicat through and through, stealthily weaves her way through the crowds to get to her, until she can approach the stranger from behind.

She urges herself to act natural, so she folds her arms across her chest and leans against the nearest pillar. “Quite the entrance you all made earlier this evening, huh?”

The princess turns, and she finally glimpses those stunning blue eyes once more, and the humming in her chest begins to grow stronger. The girl smiles good-naturedly, mimicking her posture of arms over the chest.

“I think most royalty just have a natural flair for dramatics, to be honest.” Her smile grows and shows off her pearly whites. She’s even more stunning up close, how fair is that? “They love to make an entrance and make sure everyone sees them.”

C’yra raises an eyebrow. “And you don’t?”

The blonde shrugs absently. “I’m more of a subtle person personally.” Her head tilts, her gaze penetrating into every single layer of skin and bone and muscle in her chest and gripping onto her heart fiercely. “Might I ask who I have the pleasure of speaking to?”

C'yra, one arm stretched outwards and one tucked to her chest, sweeps into an exaggerated bow that rustles her flattened hair - she only briefly considers her father's frown upon seeing his hard work go to waste, but she knows he won't be mad. She stretches her neck up just enough to peer up at the princess with an intense gaze, unaware of how everything else around them has disappeared. She can't seem to break her gaze away from those steely blue eyes. 

She's never seen someone quite like her before. She desperately wants to know more of her.

"C'yra of Driluth III, Princess of Halfmoon. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

The princess smiles, and her gaze is full of mirth, however, she cannot seem to tear her eyes away either. Without hesitation, she plucks the edges of her red silken gown and pulls the skirt out wide, and dips into a similar exaggerated bow, not once breaking the eye contact that they have maintained. A soft laugh bubbles from her lips, and C'yra - only briefly - wonders what they would taste like if she kissed her. Only briefly.

"Adora of Greyskull, Princess of Eternia." The golden-haired princess holds a hand out to her, an offer. "Won't you dance with me, C'yra?"

Don’t panic. Say yes.

C’yra’s heart is hammering with reckless abandon, but she does not miss a beat and takes the offered hand with a warm, bordering seductive smile. It’s only a slight ruse, simply because her nerves are frayed and she is terrified of making a fool of herself in front of this princess whose family is crucial in turning the tides of the war. It certainly can’t be because she is hopelessly smitten with her already. Not at all.

They lead each other out towards the dancing couples, so wrapped up in one another that they do not even take notice of the eyes watching them from multiple corners of the ballroom. As the song begins, they stand next to one another, facing opposite directions but with their heads turned towards one another, eyes locked. Right hands out, palms pressed together, they begin to sway into the proper steps; C’yra catches Adora briefly glancing across the room and glaring at her brother, who is waggling his eyebrows suggestively in their direction. She can’t help but snicker at their dynamic.

“I love Adam to death, I really do,” Adora says conversationally, as they begin to spin in a slow circle, left palms now touching together. “But one of these days, I swear, I’m going to become an only child.”

“S’not so bad,” C’yra shrugs, taking Adora’s waist as the other takes hers, and they spin in the opposite direction. “You get all the love and affection from your parents when you’re an only child, and you don’t have to share.”

“If you keep making this only-child business so appealing, I might have to stage an accident.” Adora’s jest brings a little cackle up to the surface, and C’yra couldn’t help but notice how warmth settles in the blonde’s gaze. “You’re beautiful when you laugh, you know.”

“Aw, do you flirt with every single foreign princess you meet or am I just special?” The bantering response is to mask how heat gathers in her cheeks, and how her heart is practically drumming against the inside of her ribcage.

“You’re definitely special.” Adora takes C’yra’s hand and spins her, then both of their palms and pressed together. “I saw you across the ballroom and I...I couldn’t really stop thinking about it. Ew, sorry, is that creepy?”

“Not at all. I was gonna try and talk to you earlier, but I settled for staring intensely at the back of your head, hoping you’d look at me.” Now Adora is being spun by C’yra; but the other princess does something that catches her off-guard. When she comes out of the spin, she tugs hard enough to pull C’yra against her, chest to chest, then gracefully lifts the Magicat princess into the air with her bare hands, sitting her upon her shoulder and performing a small spin before setting her back down on her feet.

“I’m glad to know we can be creepy together then!” The blonde grins, cheeks rosy. “Though your plans to seduce me might be going awry, who knows?”

If C’yra were not so desperately trying to impress Adora, she likely would have just passed out right there on the floor. The raw strength that Adora possesses astounded her; if seeing the muscle in her arms had been pleasant, feeling herself being lifted was entirely out of this world. She feels lightheaded, feels like this night couldn’t possibly get any better when she realizes that Adora is trying to impress her and is flirting openly. It’s a startling revelation, that the other princess is trying to out-flirt her.

An idea. A silly one, perhaps ludicrous, but certainly bold.

If Princess Adora can pull a fast one on her, then C’yra is more than willing to return the favour.

Adora spins her again, but C’yra stops it halfway and leans back to press herself against the blonde, their hands linked overtop of her shoulder, and also down at her waist. She could certainly die happy right this second, but she has a task at hand.

“You know, maybe my plan won’t work, but...then again…” Quick as lightning, she spins around to face Adora. She grabs one of her hands, then wraps her free arm around her waist, and tugs her sharply. Quick as lightning, she drops the princess of Eternia into a fast, graceful dip, their legs twined, chests heaving. “Maybe it already has.”

Colour lights up on Adora’s face, her eyes blown wide, the wisps of hair sticking from her immaculate style blown out. When she was dropped into the dip, she had no choice but to scramble to grab at C’yra’s shoulder to steady herself. Their eyes are locked intensely once more, but it’s different this time; this time, it’s something more. A desire. A deep-seated, profound longing to know more about the other. It’s a gravitational pull, and they cannot help but let it happen, or it would be a struggle to pull away.

After a pause to catch their breath, C’yra plants her feet and pulls Adora back up, hands gripped at her waist to keep her steady while she adjusts to being back on her feet. They’re standing closer than they were before.

When she regains her footing, Adora’s hands find C’yra’s biceps, resting them there gently. Icy blue find the mismatch of blue and gold, and they both smile.

The blonde trails her hands upwards until her hands are clasped around behind the other’s neck, and slowly, they begin to sway to the gentler song that has started.

“I think you may be right.”

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, this is the first time I've attempt to write fanfiction since 2015 and I'm not too sold on this guy, but I'm going to try and make this a series and expand more and more on C'yra and Adora's growing relationship. This was mostly meant to get my feet wet, but next time there will definitely be more Catradora present.
> 
> Notes:
> 
> -C'yra of Driluth III is the birth name of Catra in the 1980's Filmation verson of She-Ra, I thought it would be a lot more meaningful to show that Catra's identity is heavily based on what the Horde raised her to be. I feel that if she were raised by her birth family, she wouldn't have been given a name like "Catra" when she's literally a cat.  
> -C'yra wears her hair in a bob because I say so  
> -In the 1980s cartoon, Halfmoon is an underground kingdom, home to a race known as the Magicats. C'yra is half-Magicat and half-human.  
> -I wanted to Adora to be fully aware that Hordak attempted to kidnap her as a baby, and for it to be something that really affected her. Knowing she could have died or suffered greatly under him was terrifying and really affected her. This will be expanded on in future parts.  
> -Duncan is from the 80s cartoons, also known as Man-At-Arms; when Adora was kidnapped by Hordak, he attempted to save her twice, and failed both times, and it's implied that his failure really affected him.  
> -One of the main conflicts in the 1980s He-Man was that nobody knew Prince Adam was also He-Man, nobody except the Sorceress and Man-At-Arms for the most part. Not even King Randor and Queen Marlena were aware of their son's secret identity.  
> -C'yra: I would NEVER easily fall for some random pretty faced royal. *sees Adora* hi i'm single i mean c'yra  
> -Adora's dress is inspired by the fancy ballgown worn by Elena of Avalor, a Disney character who is also voiced by Adora's VA, Aimee Carrero.  
> -The dance scene is a big fat Princess Prom reference; Catra's tux, Adora's red dress, the banter while dancing, the dip. Happier and just as gay.  
> -I finally want to note that Catra and Adora may seem out of character, but please consider that they did not grow up as child soldiers and were not domestically abused by anyone in their upbringing. They were raised in loving homes with loving parents, and were never belittled or pitted against one another; they contain similar aspects of their canon personalities, but there is no logical reason that they should be exactly the same as canon. In essence, they got the happy childhoods that they always deserved, and it did so much good for them.
> 
> If you liked this and want to see more, feel free to leave a comment if there's something you'd like to see! I have a vague idea of where I'm going with this, but ideas are always welcome!


End file.
